Roasted Butternut Squash Soup with Honey-Pecan Butter

I just made the best butternut squash soup, which is the perfect dinner for a cool autumn night. I fell in love with this recipe several weeks ago when I had a taste of my Mom's fixings. I made it tonight for dinner and MMMMMM, it was tasty! Here is the recipe (comes out of the AARP magazine, of all places) which serves eight people. I cut it in half for just me and Vic and have a couple servings left over. Note, it does take a couple of hours to prepare, so keep your afternoon open if you don't want to eat late. Tastes great with rolls.

2 butternut squash, about 4 lbs.
2 tablespoons butter
2 slices bacon, chopped
1 large yellow onion, chopped
6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1/4 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
Large pinch freshly grated nutmeg (I used ground nutmeg to taste, since only Martha Stewart has fresh nutmeg)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
3 tablespoons toasted and finely chopped pecans (I used almonds since I forgot to buy the pecans - worked out great)

1 tablespoon honey

Whole leaves of Italian parsley

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Halve the squash and place pieces cut side down on an oiled baking sheet. Bake until the squash can easily be skewered, 45 - 60 minutes. Cool for 20 minutes. Remove the seeds and discard (I did this before I cooked the squash and it was fine). Scrape pulp and reserve. Discard peel.

2. In soup pot over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter. Add bacon and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is soft, about 10 minutes. Add squash and broth and simmer until squash falls apart, about 30 minutes. Cool for 20 minutes.

3. In a blender, puree soup in batches until very smooth, 2 to 3 minutes per batch. Strain into a clean soup pot and add orange juice and nutmeg. Season with salt and pepper. If soup is too thick, thin with additional water or stock.

4. Make compound butter by mashing together the remaining 1 tablespoon of butter, pecans and honey. Season with salt and pepper. Roll butter in plastic wrap into a cylindrical shape, 1 inch in diameter. Store in the refrigerator.

5. To serve, ladle soup into festive soup bowls. Cut 1/4-inch slices of pecan butter and float one in center of each soup. Garnish with parsley.

THE BEST PART: Nutrients per serving: calories 194, protein 7g, carbohydrates 31g, fiber 7g (saturated fat 3g), cholesterol 10mg, sodium 714mg

Eet smakelijk!

Tag! I'm it!

Blog tag - Rach got me. So now I guess the rules are that I am supposed to list six facts, habits or embarrassments about myself and then tag six more people. Well geez, Rach tagged the six people I know that might actually read this, so I might skip that part.

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 1: Tonight I had a Halloween piano recital, where I played some guy's Ritual Fire Dance for two pianos in a go-go girl costume. To the audience I'm sure it was amazing. To me, who has put 1000s of practice hours into this piece, it wasn't perfect. I totally botched the ending, which is the best part. Good thing this piece moves, otherwise someone might have noticed. At least my costume rocked!

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 2: I am working on being a nicer person. Colleague A once sent me an email criticizing Colleague B. Because at the time I was such a terrible person I responded, but instead of responding to Colleague A, I responded to Colleague B, the person initially being criticized (note: dumb, dumb, dumb). My response was not nice either, and now I had just sent it to the wrong person. Ruined my life in that moment. It pretty much ruined her's too. Lesson learned: look for the good in people, not their faults. That way if you send an email to the wrong person, at least you are complimenting instead criticizing them.

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 3: I am painfully shy. Those who know me never believe it when I say it, but it is absolutely true. For example, I see people I went to high school with all the time who, in my mind, were the "popular kids," the homecoming queens, football stars, school officers and everything I was too shy to ever be (BTW, I am a self-proclaimed nerd too). It stresses me out. There is always a moment of recognition between me and that person and what do I do? Oh, just look away and pretend I'm invisible. You know, like a two year old who covers their eyes to hide - if I can't see you, you can't see me either. The old home town is too small. Maybe I should move to Nebraska since nobody actually lives there.

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 4: I am a girl who likes to start lots of projects, but can never finish them. For example, I think I can paint. Can I really? No, not like Heather Woodbury, but I like to think that someday my art will actually be lovely enough to hang on my wall, that is, if I could ever actually finish a painting I've started. I also like to make quilts for my friends who have babies. In fact, my friends always tell me they look forward to receiving one of my quilts even if it is just before the child leaves for college. My latest ambition: to create a Mary Engelbreit cross stitch called "Believe." My Mom made this cross stitch and I love it. It only took her 7 1/2 years to get it done. Well, at least I know I come by this fact honestly.

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 5: Mr. G was just reading over my shoulder as I ponder Fact # 5. Soliciting feedback from him, he said "You're nappy." It's probably a fact.

Fact/Habit/Embarrassment # 6: I've been reading "The Secret" by Rhonda Byrne. I know several people who have read this book and testify that through this "law of attraction" and a mental shift in positive thinking, your life will be changed forever. I'm all for positive thinking and believe there is some truth to it. The fact is, I always get to the part of the book (or more recently, while listening to the CD that Heidi let me borrow) that says the law of attraction doesn't compute "don't" or "not" or "no" or any other words of negation. Then it precedes to list several examples, such as "I don't want a bad haircut" then in italicise the "Universe" interprets this to mean "I want bad haircuts." This is the Nephi 2 of this book - I just can't get past it. Sorry, but if I say I don't want a bad haircut, then I really mean it. If I say I don't want to walk for 10 miles with a rock in my shoe, then I really don't want to walk for 10 miles with a rock in my shoe. The real secret is this book sucks. If any one out there wants a copy, I have two.

Tag Renee. Get blogging.

Cabin Fever

Last weekend we loaded up the Budget moving truck and made our way north to Idaho to start making our cabin a cabin-home. I followed Mr. G, who was driving the moving truck. It was a pretty uneventful trip for me, driving the Acura, and for Mr. G, aside from the pouring rain and wet snow, windshield wipers that didn't wipe, no radio and my hyper head lights glaring in his mirrors (note: I was scolded multiple times for following too closely).

Rebekah cleaning and unpacking the kitchen

Because we didn't leave the old home town until after 4 P.M., it was pretty late pulling into the new digs on Friday. So we unpacked one mattress and set-up camp on the living room floor for a good night's sleep. We woke up Saturday morning to several inches of snow. It was absolutely beautiful, but so, so cold.

Mr. G tightening the bolts on the table I put together. Wouldn't want any wobbly legs now.

We were able to move in all of the furniture within a couple of hours. The rest of the weekend was spent CLEANING (everything had a layer of construction dirt on it), putting the table together, getting the beds on their frames, hanging curtains and most exciting of all getting the stackable washer and dryer situated.

Jeff helping Mr. G with the washer and dryer set-up

Our friend Jeff, who is building a cabin in the area, was kind enough to come over and help Mr. G get the washer and dryer hooked-up. This was no small feat. As you can see, the space was just big enough for the unit to fit which meant close quarters for the two guys to work in. After all the hoses were hooked-up Mr. G had to climb on top of the stack to ensure there were no kinks. Later these Yahoos discovered there is a removable panel on the washer/dryer so you can see all the connections from the front. Still, they were both so proud to get it hooked up and operating, UNTIL . . .

Mt. G ensuring no kinks in the hoses (notice the snow out the back door?)

On the test run of the washer, I noticed a strange smell, like burning rubber. When I went to check on the washer, sure enough, there was smoke coming out of the barrel. There was a mass panic to turn everything off and figure out what the heck went wrong. This was such a bummer because the fellas were so proud of their handyman skills to hook things up. After much frustration and enormous patience, Mr. G somehow managed to get the barrel to spin without burning rubber. It made me pretty nervous the rest of the weekend to wash anything - I certainly didn't want any of the brand new sheets to come out smelling like burnt rubber, but it appears to be fixed and my sheets and towels came out smelling sunshine fresh.

Weekend in B-town wasn't so "Crappy"

I just returned from another fabulous weekend spent with my sissy, the jellybean and boo in Boston. They are always so hospitable when I am in town so I just keep coming back for more. Even though Rach and Boo were pretty much sick the whole weekend, that didn't stop us from having a good time. Some highlights of the weekend:

• Quilting marathon - finished quilting a dog quilt for Rachel's friend Tiffany, who is having a baby soon. From what I hear, it was the hit of the baby shower and Tiffany nearly cried an Alabama river.



• Texas Roadhouse - mmmmm, the chicken critter salad. So good. Oohh, be careful though. If you're having trouble with the Aztec two-step (ahem, looseness of the bowel), you probably shouldn't eat salad, then sit in gridlock traffic...



• H&M - Rach graciously ditched the R.S. Women's Conference (which by-the-way. is quite a production with her ward, and I know she really wanted to attend) to take me to the H&M. She's the best sissy ever. Finally, I have some pants that fit.



• Yard Sale - Cute wicker table and chairs, $40; VHS and DVDs, 4/1$; golf clubs and cart circa 1973 $75 (eventually marked down to $55 and still didn't sell); Confederate soldier flasks, $25; friend's old poopy toilet - priceless. Rach made off like a bandit, the neighbors...they didn't do so well. They couldn't quite grasp the idea that at a yard sale you have to be willing to basically give away your junk. That means, if you are selling a vacuum that you bought six years ago for $40, pricing it at $35 at the yard sell doesn't make a lot of sense. And if someone offers you $20 for the p.o.s. - TAKE IT! Nope, the neighbor schlepped the vacuum right back into the house with 90% of their junk that didn't sell because it was all priced way way way too high and they weren't willing to dicker. Noelle enjoyed herself though. She was in her own FAO Schwartz playing with all the toys for sale.



• Pizza, beef stew, delicious homemade rolls, guilt-free chocolate cake, almost guilt-free pumpkin cookies - the pizza and the beef stew and the homemade rolls (which I ate about 2 dozen) came to fruition, but the cake and cookies - didn't bother. Rach and Boo's tape worms wouldn't allow them to eat much, so we had to forgo the goodies. We'll try again next time when every one's feeling a little better.

Thanks for the fun weekend! Looking forward to seeing you again very soon.

Scarlet

Scarlet has been a member of our family for seven years. Like most Labs, she was full of energy. She never passed up an opportunity to join her dog buddies for a swim at the dog park, ride in the car with her face out the window against the wind, or for a game of fetch-the-ball, or stick, or duck. She loved her stuffed duck. She liked to hear it "quack," and then rip it to shreds, but I think she derived more pleasure from Randy pretending she was actually a trained hunting dog who would retrieve ducks on command, but she was really just tricking him into getting a game of fetch going. Scarlet was always a very protective, loving dog who was instant friends with anybody who would scratch her ears or rub her belly. Her energy will live on as she frolicks in pet heaven with Molly, who greeted her with a tennis ball, Buddy, who chased around the pearly gates in excitement, and Tuffy, who greeted her with a love-swat across the nose and then curled up beside her. She was a good dog. She had a big smile and an even bigger heart that can never be forgotten.

Secret's Out

Many of you out there have wondered and asked why we have made several camping trips to Idaho this year. Well, they really were camping trips, but only because we were looking for something a little more interesting to camp in. We found this cabin several weeks ago and as of today we own the place. Obviously there is yet some work to be done as we embark on the next step: furnishings. So we came up with an "acquisition list" prioritized in High to Low order. Some of the higher priorities on the list include the obvious:

• Living room furniture


• Dining room furniture


• Beds and bedding


• Kitchenware


• Bathroom supplies

Mr. G has been very good about reminding me what constitutes a "high" priority on the acquisition list in an effort to avert any premature frivolousness. So last weekend our first two purchases were made for the cabin: a BBQ grill and a fire pit ring. As you can see, we have our priorities straight.

I am a Nerd, really.

I just took a Nerd Quiz at nerdquiz.com. My score summary:
79% scored higher (more nerdy), 2% scored the same, and 19% scored lower (less nerdy).
What does this mean? My nerdiness is: not nerdy, but then again maybe not all that cool either.

Lumberjacks and a Perfect Smore

We recently went camping in Idaho. Last time we were camping in Idaho, there were fire restrictions, even in the campgrounds. This was very discouraging for Mr. G because, you know, how can a guy go camping and not use his axe and saw to obtain firewood? And buying a bundle of firewood wrapped in cellophane from the local country store is just not acceptable. Lucky for us this campground allowed campfires. So Mr. G got right to chopping up some firewood. I was the lumberjack helper; I had the privilege of stabilizing the tree while my lumberjack hacked and chopped. I was never concerned about losing an arm to a mis-swing of the axe, but I did, at several points, fear getting my eye poked out by flying wood debris. This guy takes his axe hacking skills very seriously!

Thanks to my own private lumberjack, we had a pile of wood sufficient to warm an entire Who-ville community.

And what would camping be without Smores? Every time I go camping I think of Smores as a must-have dessert. Making Smores seems pretty basic, doesn't it? - roast a marshmallow; sandwich the mallow with a piece of chocolate between two halves of a graham cracker; smashed together, the heat of your marshmallow will melt the chocolate giving you a perfectly gooey and delicious Smore. Well, I think Martha Stewart, who only creates recipes that are impossible for the average person to cook, invented the Smore because they are just that, impossible. Usually one runs into several obstacles when trying to make this treat. Sometimes it is difficult to find a graham cracker that has not been totally crushed. Or, your marshmallow catches fire in the coals or melts right off your roasting stick and actually falls into the fire. And come on, does the chocolate ever really melt? In most cases, you will find yourself in one of these predicaments, but one doesn't usually complain - you just take in stride and think to yourself, "Sheesh, this is sure a lot of work for the mediocre end result." Well guess what, I experienced a Christmas miracle on this camping trip. I actually made the perfect Smore. I will admit, it only took about three tries and various creative cooking methods to get it just right (yes, I still ate the failed attempts), but I was determined and I did it. Smores really are the best camping treat.

She's No Betty Crocker

Chocolate chip cookies - the perfect Sunday night treat. All the ingredients were there. I'm ready to make a batch. My Betty Crocker cookbook showed pictures of three different chocolate chip cookies - the first cookie pictured was "too flat" because the butter was likely melted, not softened; the second cookie pictured was perfect,of course; and the third cookie pictured was cakey likely due to the flour being measured incorrectly. My choco chip cookies always turn out cakey, so I followed Betty's instructions on page 5 on how to measure flour (who doesn't know how to measure flour??) and just to be safe, I read about the proper way to "soften" butter, and began my cookie-making journey. Everything seemed to be going well. I just knew these cookies were going to be great. It wasn't until 7 1/2 minutes into the baking that I noticed my cookies did not look like Betty's "perfect" cookie. What did I do wrong!? I measured the flour just like Betty said. I softened the butter just like Betty said. And still, I somehow managed to really mess these up. Mr. G, being the loving husband he is, still ate a couple of them with a glass of milk, but I didn't get the inaugural "MMMMMMMMMM!" from him when he took his first bite, which is how I know when something I make really tastes good. This is a sure sign that three dozen crappy chocolate chip cookies are going to sit in the Tupperware for the next week, untouched, before I throw them away. Mr. G's only consolation after trying desperately to figure out how I could have possibly messed this up was, "Pookie, you just have to practice." Shortly after my cookie debacle and my short bout with depression, my sister called. Surely she would have the answer to my kitchen woes. After a few minutes of trouble shooting the problem she said, "Sissy, you just have to practice." Ppppsssffff. Forget it. I'm sticking to the pre-packaged, fail-proof dough.

Pull-over Picnics and Idaho

This weekend we were in Idaho searching out vacation property. Whether or not we found our dream vacation home is yet to be determined, but we did find Henry's Lake State Park campground a lovely place to pitch a tent and "enjoy" the great outdoors. I have to admit, I used to think RVs were for the weak, but after spending a few nights sleeping on the ground, I found myself wishing I was in the cushy quarters of an RV. Save the tent for backpacking. Give me an RV for camping. I'll even settle for a pop-up trailer.
Flashback to the early 1980s, family trip to Nowhere, U.S.A. We pull off the road onto a little, if ever used, dirt road and park ourselves under a tree. Mom hauls out the cooler full of wonder bread, peanut butter and honey, a bag of potato chips and Kool-Aide and we have ourselves a picnic. As a kid, for some reason, these pull-over picnics always made me uncomfortable. Why couldn't we just find a picnic table or better yet, a McDonald's? I would think to myself, "Let's just keep on driving to spare ourselves the humiliation of looking like such curmudgeons on the side of the road." I swore when it was my choice I would never subject myself to another lame pull-over picnic.

Well, give a kid 25 years and she'll discover that pull-over picnics aren't so bad. In fact, that turkey sandwich I made under this tree was quite delightful. And I might have said right out loud, "I think when we have kids, we should have pull-over picnics. It'll be good for them."